


The Rich and Famous Are Being Murdered; No One Is Surprised

by Quinny_555



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Because I Said So :), Bodyguard, Case Fic, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, JT and Malcolm Are Friends, Sort Of, Swearing, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22783063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quinny_555/pseuds/Quinny_555
Summary: JT and Malcolm go undercover to solve a case.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright & JT Tarmel
Comments: 33
Kudos: 167





	1. He Knows Them? Of course He Does

**Author's Note:**

  * For [literati42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/literati42/gifts).



JT knew that today was going to be trouble when he woke up late. His alarm never went off and he was only awakened by Dani calling him half an hour after he was supposed to clock in. 

“Where are you?” Dani demanded as soon as he answered. He groaned quietly as he saw the time. 

“Well, good morning to you, too,” he muttered as he rolled out of bed. 

“You were supposed to be here-” 

“Half an hour ago, I know. I must have overslept. I'll be at the precinct in fifteen,” 

“Don't bother,” Dani said, “We got a new case. I'll text you the address of the latest crime scene,” she hung up without a goodbye. He figured he should bring her something when he stopped to get his morning coffee to make it up to her. 

There weren't many crime scenes that really affected JT; he had seen it all, really. This one, however, struck a chord with him for some reason. It wasn't different from what “normal” for crime scenes, but there was something about it that disturbed JT. The guy was young, mid-twenties, and had brown hair and pale skin. His green eyes were wide open, staring blankly with a horrified expression etched onto his face. 

“The vic was Charles Harding,” Edrisa was saying when he got there. “Died around 11:30 p.m. last night. Bruising on the throat is consistent with strangulation. Looks like the killer did it by hand, too; that takes time, not to mention strength. Also, there are no signs that the vic was restrained and there aren't many defensive wounds.” she looked up at Malcolm, probably expecting him to comment. He just continued to stare at the body, a blank look on his face. 

“Bright?” Dani asked, stepping forward to put her hand on his shoulder. He jumped at the contact. “You okay?” she asked, giving him a look. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said quickly, stepping forward to get a better look at the body. He crouched beside Edrisa. “You said there were minimal defensive wounds? That indicates that he knew the killer, or was at least familiar with him,” 

“Well, where was the vic last seen?” JT asked. Malcolm sighed. 

“From what I heard, at a party for New York’s rich and famous,” he said. “My mother was there. Mentioned that he was back in town. She wanted us to get… reacquainted,” 

“Wait, you knew the vic?” Dani asked. 

“I used to. I haven't seen him since, well, Harvard,” Malcolm said, shrugging. He seemed to realize something. “Wait, where is his bodyguard?” 

“Bodyguard? There was no one else in the vicinity,” JT said, confused as to how Malcolm came to the conclusion that there  _ was _ a bodyguard. 

“No, no, no, that's not right. Charlie never went anywhere without his bodyguard.” Malcolm began to pace. “He was, uh, an only child. Heir to everything his parents have, which is a  _ lot _ . There are plenty of motives for people to kill him, pretty much all of them political. His parents have a lot of controversial opinions, and people have been sending him death threats since he was a child. He never went  _ anywhere _ without protection.” 

~~~ 

As they would soon learn, Charles was not the first victim who was killed this way. The first victim was James Howard, who was killed two months prior. He also had a bodyguard and disappeared from a high profile social gathering. His bodyguard was also never found. 

“JT, can I talk to you for a minute?” Gil said as he ushered JT into his office. 

“Sure,” JT said, only a little bemused. “What’s up?” 

“Bright has an idea for stopping this killer,” Gil shook his head, “I don't like it, but… it makes sense, and I think it would be our best option.” 

“Alright,” JT wasn't quite sure where this was going, “What’s this crazy plan?” 

“He wants to go undercover as himself to lure the killer out,” Gil said, “But he needs a bodyguard to fit the victim profile. I am asking you to fill the position.” JT blinked at his boss. 

“I'm not saying no,” he said, “But… why me? I'm sure there are more qualified officers who have done more undercover work.” 

“Honestly? Because I trust you,” he said bluntly. “And I know that Bright does too.” 

“Well then,” JT managed, a little thrown at the sudden declaration of trust. “When do we start?” 

~~~ 

“What's wrong with my clothes?” JT demanded, affronted. Bright frowned at him for a moment before answering. 

“Nothing is  _ wrong _ with them,” he said, “But they are not what you would wear if you were actually working for the Whitlys.” 

“I wouldn't wear these if I were working for your family?” JT asked in disbelief. 

“Not if you wanted to keep your job,” he muttered. JT shot him a thunderous glare, but he pressed on. “Look, in the upper crust of New York City, your employees are a reflection upon you. The more you can afford to pay them, the higher class you are. And trust me, if you were actually working for my mother you would be… very well compensated.” 

“Fine,” JT said unenthusiastically. He ignored the urge to smile back when Bright grinned at him. “Where to?” Bright gave him directions to a fancy suit shop and he knew he would regret giving in so easily. 

An employee quickly ushered them to the back of the store and took JT’s measurements. He figured that Bright must have called ahead and given them a description of what he was looking for, because they worked quickly without any questions. 

While he knew that it was disgustingly expensive, JT could appreciate that the suit was nice. The material was durable and it fit well. The leather of the shoes felt supple, like it was already worn in. 

“You look great!” Bright said enthusiastically when JT stepped out of the dressing room. “How does it feel?” 

“Good,” JT said, feeling a little awkward at not paying for the suit. He figured that if he said anything about it, Bright would just wave him off. (He was correct in that assumption, of course). Bright waved an employee down and gave her his credit card. 

“Leave my usual tip, please,” he said with a smile. The girl nodded and thanked him. 

“Do I want to know what your regular tip is?” he asked as he raised an eyebrow. Malcolm deliberated for a moment before shrugging. 

“Probably not,” JT was, admittedly, inclined to agree with him on that one. 


	2. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm and JT attend the party and JT learns a thing or two about interacting with people who possess a disgusting amount of money.

Upon arriving at Malcolm’s loft, Dani raised her eyebrows and whistled when she saw JT’s new suit. 

“Looking good, JT,” she said, elbowing him in jest. He felt his face heat up slightly and was glad that his dark skin hid the resulting blush. 

“Do I look like a well-paid security guard?” he joked. She snorted. 

“Definitely,” she replied after giving him an appraising look. 

The door at the top of the stairs opened and Malcolm stepped out, still adjusting his tie. He wore a slim fit maroon suit with a black dress shirt and tie underneath. 

“Can you see it?” he asked. JT frowned. 

“See what?” 

“The wire,” he flipped his tie over to reveal the small microphone attached to the back of it. 

“Nope,” Dani answered, “Looks like you're all set.” 

JT had met Bright’s mother before. What he hadn't realized then, is that “meeting” Bright’s mother and “ _ meeting _ ” her were two completely different things. Meeting his mother is only mildly chaotic and happens when she really couldn't care less that you are present.  _ Meeting _ her on the other hand… well, suffice to say that it is intense and not to mention terrifying. 

“So, you are the only thing standing between my son and yet another killer tonight?” she asked as soon as Bright was out of earshot. 

“I- yes, mam,” he managed, not quite sure how else to phrase it. She hummed and he honestly couldn't tell if she was satisfied with the answer. Before either of them could say anything else, Bright returned. 

“I couldn't find the…” he trailed off, looking between the two of them. “Of course, I hope that you didn't send me looking for your other set of earrings just so that you could intimidate my co-worker,” he said and she gave him a sly smile. 

“Why, Malcolm, I would never dream of it,” she said, and he just nodded. She pulled out her phone and hit a number on speed dial. “Adolpho, bring the car around.” 

“Have you arranged for a separate car for me and JT?” Malcolm asked. She pouted slightly but nodded. 

“And tell Henry to bring the second car as well,” she ordered and hung up. “Well, you two have fun. I'll see you there.” she did a little wave as she walked away. 

“Sorry about her,” Bright said when she was out of earshot. “She can be… overbearing at times.” 

“Yeah, it's no problem, but,” he paused, wondering whether he should actually ask. He figured that Bright hadn't been offended by any of his questions yet. “Is she always  _ like _ that?” 

Bright, to his surprise, laughed. It was clearly a real laugh, not like the fake one he did when he was nervous, and he shook with the force of it. 

“Yeah,” he said when he finally managed to catch his breath, eyes still shining with mirth. “Yeah, she is. We should get going,” 

The front doors to the party were crowded by press and people hoping to get a glance at someone famous. One of the reporters, in particular, was persistent, practically running after them and shouting questions at Bright. When he got close enough he grabbed Bright’s arm. JT immediately shoved him away and stepped into his sightline. 

“Watch it,” was all he said, glaring until the smaller man cowered under his gaze. After that, there were no other problems with the press. 

While JT had been informed on how bodyguards are supposed to act, putting it into practice was a whole other ball game. Sure, opening doors for someone, not so strange. Standing slightly behind them all night, never leaving and never saying anything? Now that was really fuckin strange. 

Listening to Bright talk to rich people for hours was also strange, and not just because he wasn't involved in the conversation. Almost everyone he spoke to was passive-aggressive in some way. 

“I haven't seen you at any of your mother’s parties,” one woman had said in a sickly sweet voice, “Is there a real reason or have you been…  _ working _ ?” she spat the working like one would say “incarcerated”. 

“I have been awfully busy lately, but I am regretful to have missed you,” he replied and smiled charmingly at her; she blushed, suddenly acting much more warmly toward him. 

“Oh, and I you, of course,” she sounded flustered, and Bright excused himself from the conversation soon after. 

They moved from person to person, exchanging polite conversation. Everything was, of course, only polite on the surface and JT was genuinely shocked at how brazen some of them were. One man even went as far as to ask if Malcolm intended to settle down with a nice girl despite his past  _ inclinations _ . Malcolm had, in turn, politely told him to shove it. While the man had seemed a little affronted by the sentiment, JT knew that he would have said much worse. 

After a while, Bright slipped into an empty hallway and leaned against the wall. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 

“Are you doing all right?” he asked JT, who was surprised that it was  _ him _ Bright was worried about. 

“Me? I'm fine. They're kind of tearing you apart out there, though,” he said. Bright just chuckled, but JT hadn't been joking. 

“It’s like this every time I go to one of these things. Don't worry, I'm used to it.” JT couldn't help but think that he shouldn't have to be. “I think that we should have some sort of codeword to let you know if I suspect someone. I should be able to slip something into the conversation without them noticing.” 

“You have something in mind?” JT asked. Bright nodded. 

“How about “cheers”,” he suggested. 

“If that’s what you’ll remember,” JT said in agreement, wondering why he chose that of all things.

As soon as they stepped back out into the main party they were ambushed by Mrs. Whitley. She greeted Malcolm enthusiastically with a kiss on both cheeks. 

“Malcolm, it is wonderful to see you here!” she exclaimed, already dragging him towards a group of her friends. “I've been waiting for a chance to introduce you…” and they were back in the fray. 

The night was drawing to a close and Bright still hadn't alerted him to anyone he thought could be the killer. They were actually on their way out when a man who Malcolm apparently recognized approached them. 

“Malcolm!” he called upon spotting him. “It’s been a while,” he said as they shook hands. 

“Yes, I thought you were still in the UK?” he said curiously. The man laughed boisterously. 

“Well,  _ that _ is a long story,” he said. Malcolm smiled back and settled in to listen to it. 

Bright's mother had left by the time the man, Kaydence, had finished his story. 

“Enough about me, Mal, what have you been up to lately?” he said, putting a hand on Bright’s arm and leaning in closer. Malcolm laughed nervously and cleared his throat. 

“Oh, you know, the usual. Dealing with my mother has just been cheery, as I'm sure you can figure.” JT tensed slightly at the use of the codeword but didn't otherwise react. 

“Oh yeah, she is a pistol. How is Ainsly doing? I've been seeing her on the news a lot,” JT couldn't help but notice how few people were left in the room, most of them having vacated due to the late hour. JT checked his phone before returning his attention to Bright. 

“Your car is here, sir,” he said stiffly. He saw a flash of gratitude in Bright’s eyes before he turned back to Kaydence. 

“And, there is my mother’s calling card. It was nice to see you again, Kaydence,” 

JT could feel Kaydence’s glare burning holes into his back as they walked away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been asked similar questions regarding when I will be getting a nice boyfriend. I can safely say that the answer to that question will always be some variation of "Never, dumbass". However, I have a feeling Malcolm would be much more tactful than I. :)


	3. Confrontation Is A Bitch

JT was expecting that they would leave through the front door, and he was surprised when Bright led him toward one of the back entrances. His hand shook as he spoke, though his voice sounded as steady as it ever did. 

“Only the guests who leave first are expected to leave out the front door,” he explained, “The longer the reporters wait, the more antsy they get. It leads to more harassment than is strictly necessary.” 

“They really are just vicious, huh?” JT muttered as he mulled that over. They reached a large metal door with an exit sign above it and JT opened it. A gust of cool wind swept Bright’s hair back as he stepped into the alley. 

“Oh yes, and completely remorseless, too-” his comment cut off as a suppressed gunshot echoed in the alley. JT stumbled back into the wall behind him and stared at where blood was seeping into the dark material of his suit jacket. He had been shot before, but he supposed that did not make him immune to shock. Malcolm turned quickly toward JT, who couldn't seem to just  _ make his damn lungs work _ enough to let bright know that it was the shooter he should be worried about. 

“JT!” the words sounded garbled and his vision swam. He watched as a large man approached Bright from behind. The man grabbed Bright and slammed him against the wall. 

“If I had known you would be here tonight, I would have planned better,” the man,  _ Kaydence, Bright had been right _ , growled. He wrapped his hands around Malcolm's throat as Malcolm thrashed against his hold. Kaydence towered over Bright and  _ why can't he move, where is the team _ \- 

Kaydence leaned closer and grinned at Bright, who continued to kick uselessly. He realized his error as Bright headbutted him in the nose. Hard. 

“Shit,” he hissed angrily as he staggered back, hands moving instinctively to his now broken nose. Bright took a gasping breath and scrambled away. “Oh, you're gonna pay for that, you little bitch.” 

Bright made a noise that could have been a growl and lunged at Kaydence, who had obviously not been expecting the attack. Bright punched him, but didn't move away fast enough to avoid the answering blow. Kaydence gripped his hair and threw him to the ground, where he proceeded to kick him. Once twice, and a third time for good measure. 

Bright whimpered in the back of his throat at that last strike despite his best efforts to remain silent. Kaydence rolled him onto his back with the toe of his Armani shoe and straddled him. 

“You know,” he said, sounding jovial yet winded as he pinned Malcolm's hands above his head. “You were so much more fun than Charley.” 

Two gunshots rang out, drowning out Malcolm’s response. Kaydence’s heavy body slumped on top of Malcolm, and he suddenly couldn't breathe with the weight of it. He pushed the body off in a panic, taking a deep breath as he tried to roll away. 

He looked up to see JT, panting as he held a gun in one hand and gripped his blood-soaked shoulder with the other. 

“Oh God, are you okay?” Malcolm rasped, horrified at the amount of blood covering his friend. 

“I could ask you the same question,” he managed even as he swayed. Police were suddenly swarming the alley and JT allowed the darkness to take over as he lost consciousness. 

~~~ 

“Bright, you should rest. He’ll still be here when you get back,” Gil said, frowning at the poor shape both of his subordinates were in. Malcolm sat on the hard plastic chair at JT’s bedside. 

“He shot him, Gil,” Malcolm whispered as he shook his head. “If I hadn't requested him as my partner…” he trailed off and let his face fall into shaking hands. 

“He accepted the job willingly, Bright. He knows the risks that come with it,” he knew that it wouldn't assuage Bright’s guilt, but he hoped it would help. 

When Malcolm and JT went into the alley, their microphones had cut out. The team hadn't realized there was something wrong until their driver reported that they should have made it to the car by then. JT hadn't woken since he passed out at the crime scene, and Bright had been posted at his bedside since they let him sign the discharge papers. 

“You should go home, Gil,” Bright said, turning puppy dog eyes on him. Gil hesitated. “We’ll be fine,” he insisted and Gil sighed. 

“Yeah, okay,” he muttered, rubbing his hand over his face. He knew that he wouldn't be getting much sleep, but he was bone tired. He supposed that his advice to Bright could also apply to him: they would still be there in the morning. Part of that was what worried him. 

Malcolm tried to ignore the chaos swirling in his brain as he watched the rhythmic rise and fall of JT’s chest. If he hadn't been watching so closely he wouldn't have noticed how his breath hitched slightly. 

JT groaned quietly as he came to. Everything felt too loud despite the near silence of his room. He was wondering what was happening, why his head felt fuzzy, when it hit him. 

_ Where’s Bright? _ He thought urgently as his eyes shot open. He tried to move and hissed as his stitches pulled. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” he heard a blessedly familiar, if raspy voice. He blinked as Bright suddenly appeared above him in his field of vision. His voice sounded strangely muffled. “You've gotta calm down or the nurses will not be happy with you,” he warned. JT stilled and took a breath, trying to think around the medication muddling his brain. 

Bright seemed fine, if a little beat up. He figured that that was to be expected. If they were in a hospital, there was no way he hadn't been checked out. If he had been checked out and was still walking around it couldn't be too bad. If Bright was fine, that meant that JT could stop fighting the pull of medication that was trying to take him. His eyelids continued to try and close as he muttered, “Glad you're alright.” 

The last thing he saw before losing consciousness again was Bright’s concerned face. 

“Yeah,” Malcolm muttered as JT fell back into a drug-induced sleep. “I'm glad you're okay too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've said this before, but I love seeing Malcolm being CAPABLE. He may be sweet but he is still a badass, and no one can convince me otherwise :).

**Author's Note:**

> I would like it to be known that I think that PB&J's are the best goddamn thing to ever be invented. I probably would have withered away into dust or something by now if not for them :)


End file.
